Vivienne
by Cretha Loesing
Summary: In earth's history, particularly in Europe, there have been tales of Vampires. According to Tolkien, these were large bats created by Sauron that enjoyed blood. However, European folklore tells of bloodthirsty creatures: pale, fast, strong and nocturnal. What if an earth vampire 'awakens' in ME? This is her untold story. T for violence, gore and mild language.
1. Chapter 1: Le Gué

_My name is Vivienne. This is my account of the war of the ring, and the trueth of my part in it. I hope you judge by my words, as I will need a decent friend to testify for me against Heaven. I would ask for a witness, but none would I even ask, heaven forbid allow, to risk their place in heaven to testify as a witness._

_There are three things you must know before I begin, dearest reader:  
1) I am christian.  
2) I am vampire, excuse me, a Lamia.  
3) I do not know where I am, when I am, or how I got here.  
_

_...and a fourth thing: **I have no memory of who I was before. I have existed knowing two words, Vivienne and Vampire. Ironic they both begin with the letter V. In any case, I have lost all memory, indeed all knowledge, of my past life- if I had one at all. Many have told me you have to die before you can be dead, but I am not s**__**o**__** sure.  
**_

* * *

Chapter 1: Le Gué (the ford)

The dark figure hid by the river, deathly silent, waiting. I suppose this would be irony, because the dark figure is me.

In any case, I heard screeching cries. There was pain in that sound, melancholic sadness, mixed with the terrible existence of one of the undead: not alive, not dead, forever waiting to pass on, never reaching that goal. My world around me spun as the sound of pounding horse hooves rang in my ears. Darkness fell over my heart as I clutched my head in pain.

A migraine reverberated in my head, the concussion-like symptoms coming.

"By Elbereth and Luthien Fair..." The words rang in my head, easing the pain yet causing more in-and-of themselves. I looked up, tears in my eyes.

Wraiths stood but a few feet away from me, Nazgul on black horses in the water. They slowly and carefully made their way to A small blurry figure, defiant on a white horse.

"...have neither... the ring!" The ring, oh god, the ring. The word rang in my head and I doubled over as the word made me hear loud bells. Too loud, and everything shown with light, especially the Halfling upon his white horse, empty darkness lay where the ringwraith's stood.

I stared at their darkness until I could bare it no more, then shut my eyes and bent over in agony. There was a rushing of water in my ears, as the nazgul's siren call disappeared. I was flung from my hiding place, and into the turbulent water. I struggled to find the surface, if only to see, but flailing around did me nothing.

By a miracle of fate the water rushed away, and I was left shivering, exhausted and wet when I was found.


	2. Chapter 2: Enterré Vivant

Quick author note:

_Italics_ are french.

"this is dialogue."

* * *

Chapter 2: Enterré Vivant (buried alive)

I awoke to darkness. There was a crushing pressure all around me, no air was in my lungs. I could not open my eyes, but the pressure hurt so bad.

I tried to move, to push whatever held me down off of me... but it didn't move. So I thrashed and flailed with all my might. Was this... dirt? I am buried? Never mind. Bit-by-bit I dug. It was hard work, moving the dirt around my body. I have no idea how long it took, it could have been hours, it could have been weeks, it could have been months or even years. I don't know, and I have no idea.

My hand broke through the soil, to the air. I hurriedly sat up, the dirt cascading off of me into a large cloud. I inhaled, then started coughing the dirt out of my lungs. I was caked in dirt, under my clothes, my nails, in my mouth and eyes. I shook more of it out of my hair and wiped the dirt out of my eyes.

I was in a forest. A river, a ford ran nearby, and I crawled to the water's edge, hoping to wash the taste and feeling of the earth out of my mouth and eyes.

"Man Le!" I heard a voice say. I looked up, water cupped in my hands. An elf stood by the ford's edge, bow drawn and an arrow knocked on the string and pointing at me.

"Who are you who rises from the grave?" He demanded in a cold voice. I stared at him, willing myself to stay silent.

"Speak, oh woman! What brings you so close to the valley of Rivendell?"

"Well, being buried alive is never a good thing you know." The sarcastic remark escaped me, lacing the air with distrust.

"No creature, be it elf, man, halfling or beast can rise from the grave. What are you- a foul creature of Sauron's Sorcery? Or are you a new breed of orc?" The elf responded coldly.

"Well, I am almost certain I do not belong to the race of any living creature you can think of. Sauron's power does not reside with me, so far as I am aware;" I paused, "Do I look the part of an orc?"

"Then what creature are you?" The elf growled. I was stuck for an answer. If he did know of vampires, which it is likely he did not, than I would be killed ('destroyed' in my case, considering I was already dead) instantly. If it was not instantaneous death, I would be brought to Rivendel and burned to death likely. Perhaps slaughtered in my sleep if I was lucky. I had to escape, but I was weak from hunger, running was not an option.

"I am Vivienne," I told him, "and now I am leaving." I rolled backwards to my feet, turning away from the elf.

"Hold!" He cried.

"You did not answer my questions: How can you, nay any creature, rise from the grave? Also what business brings you so near to Rivendel?."

I sighed, he would not let it go, would he? Much longer and I would be forced to kill him... or leave the elf in critical condition so I might escape.

"To your first question, I would respond _je ne sais pas_. To the second, my answer is my own, my business is my own. Suffice it that I am travelling, have traveled far, and wish to leave as soon as I can. Wasting time bandying words with you is pointless and burning the daylight I have to travel by. Now if you would _excusez-moi_, I will be leaving." I abruptly turned around, to have an arrow thump the ground right in front of me.

"Halt, miss. Our orders are to bring you to Rivendel." A different voice said behind me.

"_Je mords mon pouce à vous!_" with that insult, I ran. Voices pursued me, but I was suddenly knocked to the ground when an arrow struck my ankle. It skittered away as I went down. An elf was on me in a second. Grabbing my hands an knotting them with cord behind my back. They jerked me up roughly, and I was blindfolded. Unfortunately for me, I could not fight them, as the elves kept a strong grip on me the entire time. However it seemed a short time before I was lead into a city, and sat in a chair, in a near empty room.

The blindfold was removed.

"Greetings and welcome to Rivendel, Ms. Vivienne."

* * *

___Je ne sais pas_-I do not know

_Excusez-moi_- excuse me.

_Je mords mon pouce à vous!_- 'I bite my thumb at you!' a shakespearian insult, from romeo and Juliet


	3. Chapter 3: Le Maître de Rivendell

Chapter 3: Le maître de Rivendell (the master of rivendell)

I was speechless. Standing before me, was none other than Lord Elrond himself. THE lord Elrond, master of Imlardis, Peredhel, survivor of the last alliance, friend of Isildur... the list goes on.

What was I going to do?

"Do not panic: I will not hurt you, should you prove not to be a spy sent by the enemy."

I laughed. The elf-lord was shocked but I laughed in his face. He thought me a spy? For Sauron? This was unbelievable luck. That kind of excuse might give me my life... or whatever existence I had, I suppose.

A wolf captured by hounds would always fight to live.

"Then," I stifled my laughter, "what would happen to me, should I be proven to be a spy of the enemy? Life imprisonment?"

"You would be lucky to escape with that, if not a death sentence." He responded, his eyes dark.

I was shocked. Horrified, actually. I knew that Lord Elrond's reputation was probably better than he was, but still. Who would give a death sentence, simply because the person does not agree with them? It was bigotry and corruption. What justice would lie in there? Who did he think he was? Who has the right to judge life or death... to pass unrighteous judgement simply beecause of a person's beliefs? What kind of trap have I gotten myself into?

"Peredhil, you shock me." I told him, rising from my chair. I sat back down at his glare.

"Who are you, who are any of us, to judge life and death?"

"To say that, you would have to be sided with the enemy, or a sympathizer and spy." Elrond replied.

"Were I you, I would not make so many generalizations, or draw my conclusions so quickly." I glared at him.

"Then what would you do in my case? Let you go free, with information about Rivendel and the Ringbearer?" The elf asked.

"No, were our situations reversed I would likely kill you, or if I felt merciful banish you to far away. The containment of such a despicable creature like myself is worth neither the effort nor the risk." I told him.

"And what exactly is a despicable creature such as yourself called?" Elrond dropped the question like a bomb. I felt a tugging in my mind, but pushed it away.

"_Je ne parle pas le langue d'Ouest. Je refuse de répondre à ta question._" I reverted to french, my native language. The elf's stare darkened, and I spoke Westron no more to him. When they had decided I would not speak to them, I was blindfolded again, and taken under Imlardis into a rather small room with guards stationed at the door and window. The sun had arisen once again before I saw another soul.

A knock came from the door.

* * *

_Je ne parle pas le langue d'Ouest. Je refuse de répondre à ta question.-_ I do not speak the language of the west (Westron). I refuse to answer your question.


	4. Chapter 4: Le Sorcier Gris

Chapter 4: Le Sorcier Gris (the gray wizard)

A knock sounded from the door.

"It isn't locked." I called, from the other side of the room.

The door opened, and a wizard stepped into the room. A wizard clothed near entirely in gray, with a pointy blue hat on his head. I would have laughed at him, but instinct told me not to.

"Hello, Miss Vivienne," he said, "I am Gandalf the grey. Perhaps you have heard of me?" My look clearly told him no.

"Well then, I am a wizard, an istar. What manner of creature are you?"

"_Vous-êtes un bigot aussi, je crois._" I told him. "Well, what do you want from me? I imagine Elrond sent you to find out more." He laughed.

"Nay, nay, I came out of curiosity. It is not often I meet a creature I do not know the name of."

"_Nous levons de la mort, nous ne sommes ni morts ni vivants.  
Nous brûlons dans le soleil, nous survivons dans le noir.  
Nous sommes immortels, nous avons soif de sang.  
Nous hanter les plus sombres histoires._" I told him, "That is what I am."

"And in Westron that would be..." Gandalf raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, not answering him. The wizard waited several seconds, as if expecting me to answer him.

"What is the language you speak? I have not heard your accent, nor those words before. It sounds... strange." he said, changing the subject.

"I speak... my native tongue. I do not know what it is called." I responded.

"Truelly? Where do you come from?"

"That is hidden from me as well. When, where or why I lost it is anyone's guess."

Gandalf observed me, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"You certainly are a puzzle, that is for sure. Can you remember your life, any of it at all?"

I shut my eyes.

"I can remember my name, 'Vivienne', and the name of my race. I know there was a point when I knew where I come from and the name of my language, but I cannot remember." I opened my eyes to see the Wizard looking at me strangely.

"You have fangs." he noted under his breath.

"And perfectly fine hearing, with the nose of a..." I stopped myself from continuing, "wolf."

"Interesting..." Was Gandalf's only comment. I was not prepared for his next question.

"What would my scent be of?" I wondered why he asked.

"You smell... of the dirt of the road, of an old human- older than most, and elves, both young and old. You smell of dew and fresh spring air. Beyond that..." I stared at him, amazed.

"Beyond that? What do you smell?" Gandalf asked.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Dear readers,**

**I will not translate the riddle, you can throw it in Google translate and get an answer that will do you just fine. However, the riddle, and the language, is central to the story, so I'd ask you to wait just a few chapters more.**

**Special thanks goes to: Certh and MoonyPadfootProngs14 for reviewing so far.**

**Happy reading!**

**~Cretha**


	5. Chapter 5: Le Commerce

Chapter 5: Le commerce (The trade)

The wizard opened the door, clearly leaving any sense of politeness he once had- out the door. Perhaps I had been rude, but it would have been nice if he had at least knocked before entering. A ranger followed him. His eyes fell on me and he the blood drained from his face.

"It's you..." The ranger said, slightly breathless.

"You look like you have seen someone rise from the dead, ranger. What shocks you so?" I asked him.

"I was there, it was Glorfindel who found your body. You were dead when were you were and we buried you near the ford. How-" His wide eyes turned to Gandalf.

"You know as much as I do," The wizard said cryptically, "an ellon saw her dig herself out of the grave. It appears the woman you thought was dead, was not." Implications hung in the air. The ranger regarded me with a mask of caution.

"What are you?" he demanded quietly, hand resting on the hilt of the sword.

_"Votre sang chante pour moi." _I told him. The ranger glared at me.

"Your blood sings to me." I translated quietly. The air filled with tension and I looked down at the floor.

"My blood sings to you? What is that supposed to mean?" The ranger slid his sword half-way out of the sheath. I stared at my hands in my lap, they were shaking, trembling with the urge to kill. I clenched them into fists, with a wizard here, who knows what he could do if I attacked.

"Let me hunt," I told them, all the while staring at the floor, "please let me hunt, and I will answer your question." I could feel their eyes on me, and cursed them under my breath.

"Why do you need to hunt? Would not water and food be more important, or perhaps your freedom?" The question came. I looked up, making eye-contact with the wizard angrily. This was a set-up, he trapped me.

"I am _un carnivore_, like a wolf. I need fresh meat."

"What do you mean? How is that possible?" The ranger demanded incredulously. I blocked him out, shutting my eyes. The wizard answered, and soon I could hear their voices growing louder and louder.

"You think I am insane," I said slowly, silencing them; I stood up, bent over slightly from the weakness, "You think I am human- I am not.  
"You have no idea, no idea, humans, how much pain you cause me. I can smell the blood in your veins, I can almost taste it. It will not take much longer for me to succumb to hunger and fatigue." I glared at the wizard angrily.

"You knew this, did you not? You knew I could not last long without the taste of blood. You used that weakness," The wizard regarded me seriously as I paused, "you used that weakness so I would be forced to answer your questions. You knew that if I declined I would go mad with hunger and attack all in sight- it would give you the only excuse you needed to end my li-existence, _en permanence._"

The wizard looked shocked. I raised a hand and clenched it, visualizing his neck between my fingers.

"Despite your decent intentions, I cannot give you the slightest reason for my destruction- death, the one that I know, is far too painful. So I am forced to bargain for my life with you: give me raw meat, and I shall tell you -and only you- all I know of my kind." I lowered my gaze.

Silence filled the room. It was thick enough that if I had a knife, I might cut through it. What caused them to hesitate? Were they plotting my death? I had laid my cards on the table and they had better give me their answer before it came to blood. I was itching to drink someone's blood, and I might not last long.

"Do you accept my trade?"

"We have a deal," The wizard answered, and looked to the ranger, "Strider- would you take a quick hunting trip? I shall inform Lord Elrond." The ranger nodded at him, then looked at me disgustedly.

"What animal do you want?" He asked. I let out a breath of air, sliding back down to the floor. The visual image of a deer flashed across my mind, and I hastily tossed away the idea.

"Whatever is quickest to catch. A couple of rabbits or a small bird would sustain me." I replied, clenching my fists. I needed them out, out of here before I attacked someone.

* * *

_Votre sang chante pour moi_- your blood sings to me.

_un carnivore_- a Carnivore (meat-eater/predator)

_en permanence-_ permanently

**Next chapter I promise to reveal her riddle- I promise!**

**I hope you enjoyed reading!  
**

**~Cretha Loesing  
**


	6. Chapter 6: Libre Volonté

Chapter 6: libre volonté (free will)

The wizard stood across the room from me, as the Ranger, Strider, entered. The ranger tossed me two rabbits and I caught them, perhaps a bit quickly. His eyes widened slightly, but he shut the door and leaned against it. I glared at him._  
_

"I did not agree to the Ranger's presence." I growled. What was the wizard trying to pull over me? I was not blind.

"I assumed you meant the both of us. However I can tell him to leave- but I shall repeat all that you tell me to him later." The wizard told me. I looked at him sceptically, then remembered I had not included his silence in the bargain.

"Westron, my riddle goes:  
**We rise from death, we are neither dead nor alive.**  
**We burn in the sun, in the dark we survive.**  
**We are immortal, we thirst for blood.**  
**Your stories, we haunt, the darkest of**." I tore off the rabbit's leg and quickly drank up the blood.

_"Je suis un buveur de sang._ I am a blood drinker;" I told him, pausing, then grinned at their horrified faces, "The Greeks name us Lamia, however the most common name is vampire."

"Who-"

"Where do you come from?" Strider interrupted the wizard.

"I believe the answer to that question has been lost in the years of my existence." I replied, and shrugged, biting into the rabbit to rip off a piece of flesh. Aah. I had missed the taste of rabbit.

"How long have you been... ah, walking Middle earth?" The wizard questioned.

"Since I could walk, I imagine;" My sarcasm unfortunately did not go over well with them, both men frowned darkly, "however long ago that may have been. I do not know, perhaps a century- at least."

"And what were you doing near the ford? Are you allied with the Ringwraiths?" Strider asked. Ringwraiths. So that is what they were. Those creatures, I would have to keep my ears open for reports them. I could not risk being rendered so weak again. In the state I had been left in, anyone would have had the opportunity to kill me. I could also be buried alive again.

"I know as much about them as does the average tree," I said sarcastically, then added, "that is to say: absolutely nothing at all. For those who suffer to attempt at understanding the statement." I pointedly looked at the ranger. He glared darkly back.

"However I will avoid all confrontation with them in the future: another encounter like the one I had witnessed could prove fatal."

"You mentioned immortality," The wizard pointed out, "Would that not mean you cannot die?" I looked down, glaring at the dead rabbit in my hands.

"Even if I was not immortal, I cannot die by most methods." I responded.

"I have tried to kill myself so many times, I have almost passed on so many times, it is torment. Most conventional methods would not work. I know that no amount of cold, nor blood-loss could kill me. You could not cut through me, not even with an enchanted elvish blade- I think. Drowning is impossible, so is poison and suffocation. Heartbreak will not kill me as elves, neither would any form of torture I know of. Starvation would not kill me, neither would dropping off a cliff- I've tried that several times. No sort of stab-wound could kill me, though it does leave a faint ache." They both paled as I told them these.

"However I know for a fact both fire and sunlight cause me a great deal of pain."

The ranger exchanged a glance with the wizard.

"There is a damn high price I paid for my immortality, and I would gladly destroy myself if I could." So many memories of death come to mind.

"Then why did you not simply burn yourself to death?" The wizard asked. I glared at him angrily.

"'Simply'? There is nothing simple about orchestrating my own death, wizard. I could not burn myself to death if I want to. I just... cannot. I cannot let myself. It is too painful." I looked down at my hands.

"I know what you are thinking, I am no coward. If I was alive, you would not call me a coward for being unable to commit suicide. No, because I am a damned creature of night, because I drink blood and must kill to live- that somehow makes it acceptable to kill me like an animal. No, in your minds I am less than animal, less than a beast, I am a monster to-"

"I did not call you a coward, nor did I call you a monster." Gandalf interrupted.

"So is the wolf that howls at the moon, or the shark in the waters, or the orc in the forest, not a monster as well? I would ask you this: I choose this life? Did I choose to be a vampire? Did I ask to be a night-born predator? Did I ask to become a bloodthirsty monster? I did not ask to live a life where I must kill to survive, I do not enjoy the death my existence has caused. But what can I do? Kill myself? Simply because of what I am?"

"You were given what you deserve." Strider said coldly. What? I... I deserve this? What did I do? What did I do to earn the torture of having to kill to survive, to see each death and know that they deserved it less than me.

"Then pray tell, oh great messiah, who believes he knows the mind of God. What did I do, hm? What did I do to deserve this? Answer me that." I growled at him."And if you can't, pray share your prodigious intellect with me, and tell me what I can do to change the situation- because I am clearly lost."

"None can know the mind of Eru, Vivienne. What he has planned for each of us is different. Perhaps-" Gandalf interceded.

I snarled at him, tears streaking down my face for the first time in decades.

"If death is my only escape from this hellish existence, then death it shall be."

* * *

**Okay guys, Vivienne as been officially exposed as a vampire. What do you think she will do now? What will happen to her? Who, if anyone, will stop her suicidal-actions?**

**~Cretha  
**


	7. Chapter 7: La Belle et la Bête

**Quick author's note for all my wonderful reviewers:**

******C. ********: Girl, you are amazing. HUGE shout out to you for solving my story problem- readers, you should thank her. The story would have died without her. And I mean DIED.**

**Luna Elen****: Thank you for calling my story creative... You made my day! Here is your digital snickerdoodle (hands cookie).**

**Feanathiel: I'm glad I do angst well, I'm always scared I'll end up sounding like a little kid throwing a tantrum or something. *gives High-five* Nice name by the way, I'm curious as what it means.  
**

**That's all for now. Enjoy.  
**

**~Cretha  
**

* * *

Chapter 7: _La belle et la bête_ (The beauty and the beast)

"Miss Vivienne." The elf-lord, Roland was his name? I do not know. His voice came to me one day. I do not know when he had entered, or how long he had been there- my memory was mottled by sunlight. The heat my body had absorbed was affecting me. My throat was dry, my vision blurred, and my mind was foggy. Consciousness grabbed me and I vaguely felt myself topple over.

Hands grasped me, cold hands, and I was dragged out of the blinding sunlight. Blinking rapidly, my vision remained blurred. Spots blocked out a fair amount of what I could see.

"You have a fever." A hand felt my forehead.

"No, it is simply the affects of sunlight." I corrected him. Now it came to me, his name was _Elrond_. Yet... why was he saving me? why was he concerned? My species was practically the enemy of all life and yet...

"Vivienne, I need you to look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?"

I smirked. Ah, yes, he was a healer- renown for it in fact. It was no wonder he had noticed my blindness.

"The blindness is temporary, I'm sure. What time would it be?"

"Late morning, ten o'clock to be precise," Elrond told me. I relaxed, when had I tensed?

"The blindness is temporary then. It will not last long, have no fear," I told him. Elrond muttered something in a low voice.

"Yes? I didn't quite catch that," I told him, smirking. My vision was already beginning to clear, aside from the colorful spots I could vaguely make out... colors, shapes. Movement certainly.

"I know sunlight kills you, why do you chose to sit in it?" Elrond asked, his voice slightly hostile. I turned away from the blurry shape, which I guessed was him, and faced the doorway. Thank goodness doorways were square, and not some other unrecognizable shape.

I had no answer, so I chose to remain silent.

Why _had_ I done this?

The answer came so quickly I almost laughed aloud.

"I do not want to die because someone else ordered it," I told him. Elrond stiffened behind me.

"Who tried to kill you?" He asked. I whipped around and threw him a glare.

"Do not fake ignorance, Elrond. You know very well what I'm talking about." The elf-lord's blurry figure remained still. I scrambled up to my feet and stumbled as sunlight hit me again. The elf shoved me abruptly out of it.

"If you are implying that I desire your murder, then you are sadly mistaken," He told me in a low voice.

I tensed at the warmth of him. Blood called to me, Elrond glowed slightly- just enough for me to notice. I shook his hands off my arms, clenching my fists.

"I know I am a monster, but I can't imagine what kind of a monster you must be to save a monster such as myself."

Elrond was silent for a few seconds.

"You said before you are a most unfortunate soul to have such a body. I pity you."

"_La belle et la bête,_" the words flew out of my mouth. What was it? What did this remind me of? However the more I tried to remember, the less I could- until the memory was gone entirely.

"You said?" Elrond asked. I shook my head, the memory of my words swiftly leaving.

"Perhaps I am a damned soul..." I paused, "perhaps I'm damned for a good reason. Or a bad one, in the case of damnation." I smiled slightly.

"Then your existence would give you a chance to redeem yourself- despite the shortcomings," Elrond pointed out. I sighed.

"That is certainly something you would say," I told him. I ran a hand through my hair, though the thick dark strand simply fell back into my face again. A knock came from the door and I jumped.

Somebody stood in the doorway, a blonde, practically glowing figure.

"I have things to attend to. Glorfindel will watch over you for the time being," Elrond said.

"Watch over me? Am I suddenly such a danger?" I asked him angrily. It was ridiculous, the elf was playing two sides at once. He couldn't be the caring humanitarian and the cautious prison-lord at the same time.

I heard Elrond stand up, and he offered me a hand, "your position is much more precarious than you realise." I refused to stand. Elrond walked over to Glorfindel and muttered something in his ear. I caught the words "aur", "naur" and "dago"- but I didn't know sindarin. Then Elrond left, and I was left in the company of a rather cheery, cautious elf.

* * *

_La belle et la bête_- beauty and the beast

As for the elvish (sindarin) words, Aur=sunlight, Naur=fire, Dago=slay/kill. Three guesses as to what Elrond told Glorfindel. ;)


	8. Chapter 8: être ou ne pas être

**Quick Author's note:**

**kudo's to reader-anonymous-writer for writing such a thoughtful, sincere review.  
**

**I'm writing more of my story! Now onto Vivienne...  
**

* * *

Chapter 8: être ou ne pas être (to be or not to be)

I wonder, does Elrond know that Glorfindel has a perpetual, deep and unending loathing and despise of and for all 'creatures of darkness'?

The brightly glowing elf will only glare at me from the doorway, although I think he might be curious as well. I have caught some staring from him out of the corner of my eye. However curiosity and distrust are a dangerous combination together- and I wouldn't be surprised if this elf has a bad temper too.

I really do wonder if Elrond intended this as some sort of hate-message to me.

The air is silent between us, and I am waiting for him to say something first. I never was one for starting conversations, mainly because I have not _really_ had any time with other people. There were a few brief moments in orc-skirmishes, and I might have encountered a farmer or beggar occasionally. However my clothing comes from scrap-piles and various shops. I always tried to steal the less costly clothing, and if I was staying in the area I might leave some meat or firewood as recompense.

I am used to silence, however I cannot shake off the feeling that the elf is not so used to it.

It probably makes him uncomfortable, but he has to say the first word. Not me. The person who throws the first fist does not always have the last laugh. I have learned that lesson well.

Now I notice one thing: I am hungry.

This is probably not the best time to show him my eating habits- but I can't deny my hunger. In about half an hour to an hour, or so, I may start shaking. Which is the definition of not-good. Especially around powerful people, like Gandalf and Elrond.

I hope Elrond remembered that I need to leave my room to eat.

"Glorfindel?" The elf looked at me irritatedly. Now for how to get a meal out of him- no pun intended.

"May I go outside? I do not know about you, but I cannot stay cooped up for very long." I told him.

The elf grunted, and motioned me out the door.

* * *

The first thing I was greeted with outside was sunlight. Then the sight of Glorfindel glaring at me, with his sword drawn- after I dashed to the shade.

I guess he didn't think I was that fast. Arrogant, ignorant elf.

So saying, I decided to wander into the trees. The forest seemed so... it had some sort of indistinguishable aura about it that was everywhere. It was unlike any forest I had ever been in before- something where power thrummed through the trees and hummed in the ground.

I felt light-headed, and slightly weak.

_The scents of the world revealed themselves to me. An elf stood behind me… only a little away. Aside from the birds and insects of the forest- the trees whispered menacingly in the air. A man- human, dirty, worn from travel silently stalks a rabbit. A rabbit._

_I'm running, wind whips by me and the elf takes chase. He shouts at me, I simply increase my pace. The man._

_I dash in front of him, snapping the rabbit's neck with in one bite. Quicker than I thought to the man raises his arrow straight to the middle of my forehead._

No Vivienne, think- don't act! This is Strider- don't kill the human!

_The man is threatening. He poses some sort of threat to me- I no longer know what but he does. Despite the pounding blood in his veins, a pulse quick and tempting… the scent of raw flesh-_ "No!"

I run. I drop the rabbit and run! Away from Strider and food, _away_ from food…

_Flying. Flying through the trees. Racing. Running from what I've become…_

I need to… escape. To break these bonds that commit me to this insanity- this lifeless _hell. This unending existence- the patchwork quilt of day and night, of dark black and light. Break it… suffer any pain to be free…_

Come to bent over the corpse of a rabbit. Blood covers my hands and its flesh is warm with life…

I look up to see Strider regarding me with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. He has no bow. Hand rests on sword-hilt.

_Sword-hilt. This is my chance. He is wary, I can bait him into killing me. Burn the body…_

I stand up slowly. Warm liquid dribbles down my chin, drapes down my clothing like a splash of warm tea.

Glorfindel stands near Strider, his face filled with contempt and disgust. I meet Aragorn's eyes.

"I disgust you." There was no statement, no question in my tone. It was simply restating a fact.

"No," his face is perfectly serene, "you intrigue me."

"I intrigue you," I said sarcastically.

"Yes."

I blinked. Something told me he's different.

"So get it over with already," I glared at him.

"Get what over with?"

I clenched my fists, it was almost has if liquid fire filled me.

"You know what! Kill me already- end my miserable existence before I take you pathetic life."

Glorfindel tensed behind him. Good, the elf should be ready to kill.

"Why?"

I looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but pity.

It disgusted me.

"Why?" I asked, outraged, "There is no rest for me, no peace. I wander, I am hunted and hunter. I kill for a pathetic existence; which, I have no power over. My 'being' darkens the world, brings power to evil, and signs the death of the innocent. I am a monster: I have killed many."

"What I see, Miss Vivienne, is a being tormented by evil. A being that strives to do good- despite all the forces of darkness both in and around it. I see someone who shoulders blame for the deaths of thousands, and yet does not realize the good they accomplish."

I snorted, "what 'Good'?"

"Do you remember, the night at the ford?

"Your being there distracted the wraiths, just long enough for me and my companions to arrive. Had you not distracted the dark beings, a dear friend would have died- and the wraiths would not have been destroyed. Had you not been there, we would not have reached him in time- nor managed to bring him to Rivendell in time, or cured the poison in his wound. Miss, he owes you his life, and I owe you my eternal gratitude for saving him."

I stood up, "you see a kindness that is not, has not, nor ever will exist within me. It was certain death and pure chance that saved your friend's life- luck and the fates were kind to him that day. Save your thanks for them."

I looked him in the eye, "So what will it be- kill me and grant me freedom from this hell-hole, or save me and prolong my suffering?"


	9. Chapter 9: Choix

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Chapter 9: _Choix _(Choice)

The room was silent, shrouded- I was grateful for the dark.

I sat in a chair, Glorfindel stood next to me as some sort of living torch. He had refused to tell me why I was here. Or why Elrond had deigned to see me- while in the presence of so many others.

I could recognize Gandalf in here, as well as Strider- the ranger. Aside from them were unknowns- a young elf (comparatively young to the others), an auburn-haired dwarf (I have never seen a red-haired creature), and a rather princely-looking man.

The door opened, and four... four halflings entered the room. The one in front I recognized from the incident at the fjord. Aside from him, one followed him like a dog and the other two could have been twins.

"The time has come," Elrond said with a grave look at the halfling from the fjord, "if the ring is to set out..." I lowered my gaze, as the word rang in my ears, painfully.

"...Do you still hold to your word, Frodo, that you will be the ring-bearer?" The compound-word slammed me, and I bit back a whimper. It hurt my ears... painfully, but I think it was worse.

"I do," replied the halfling, Frodo, "I will go with Sam."

"Then I cannot help you much, not even in council," Elrond spoke solemnly, as if weighted down by the words, "I can foresee very little of your road; and how your task is to be achieved I do not know. The Shadow-" I winced, "-has crept now to the feet of the mountains and draws nigh even to the borders of the Greyflood; and under the shadow, all is dark to me. You will meet many foes, some open, some disguised; and you may find friends on your way when you least look for it. I will send out messages, such as I can contrive, to those whom I know in the wide world; but so perilous are the lands now become that some may well miscarry, or come no quicker than you yourself.  
"And I will choose you companions to go with you, as far as they will or fortune allows. The number must be few since your hope is in speed and secrecy. Had I a host of elves in armor of the old days, it would avail little, save to arouse the power of Mordor..." He continued on to list the people in the room- but I wasn't paying attention.

I was trying to determine the source of the eery sound, underneath their voices. There was something ethereal underneath this- something haunting and dark that set me on edge. It made me nervous, a power that radiated malice.

"Strider!" cried Frodo, and I jerked to see him smiling brightly.

"Yes," the ranger replied, bemused, "I ask leave once again to be your companion, Frodo."

"I would have begged you to come," Frodo told him, "only I thought you were going to Minas Tirith with Boromir."

"I am," Strider drew himself as he responded, "and The-Sword-that-was-Broken shall be re-forged ere I sent out to war." War? What war? Skirmishes with orcs?

"But your road and our road lie together for many hundreds of miles, therefore, Boromir will also be in the Company. He is a valiant man." The noble nodded beside Strider.

"There remain two to be found," Elrond said, looking pointedly at me, "these I will consider. Of my household I may find some that it seems good to me to send."

I sent him a glare, "find-"

"But that will leave no place for us!" exclaimed one of the twin-halflings in dismay, "we don't want to be left behind. We want to go with Frodo." I dropped my head in my hands. No. If that whining little baby goes- I might very well kill myself before I went with them.

"That is because you do not understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead," Elrond stated.

"Neither does Frodo," Gandalf jumped in, "Nor do any of us, I imagine," he gave me a look, "see clearly. It is true that if these hobbits understood the danger, they would not dare to go."

And rightfully so, Gandalf. I understand -to some small extent- the danger and I will not go.

"But they would still wish to go, or wish that they dared, and be shamed and unhappy. I think, Elrond, that in this matter it would be well to trust to their friendship-" I snorted, and Glorfindel elbowed me hard, "than to great wisdom. Do you have something to add, Vivienne?" I glared at Gandalf.

"Nothing you would listen to, or even dare consider," I snapped, his idiocy in trust was slightly annoying. Gandalf raised an eyebrow, than turned back to Elrond.

"Even if you chose for us a great elf-lord, such as Glorfindel, he could not storm the Dark Tower, nor open the road to the Fire by the power that is in him."

"You speak gravely: but I am in doubt. The Shire, I forebode, is not free now from peril; and these two I had thought to send back there as messengers, to do what they could, according to the fashion of their country, to warn the people of their danger. In any case, I judge that the younger of these two, Peregrin Took, should remain. My heart is against his going," Elrond finished. _Gloussement, mère poule._

I blinked, but the thought was gone as soon as it came, what was it?

"Then, Master Elrond, you will have to lock me in a prison, or send me home tied in a sack," one of the twin hobbits, Peregin, said naively, "for otherwise I shall follow the Company."

"Let it be so then. You shall go," said Elrond, sighing, "Now the tale of the Nine is fulfilled. In seven days the Company, and Vivienne, must depart."

I looked up, and glared at Elrond.

"I believe you are mistaken: Vivienne is not going," I said coldly. All eyes turned on me. It made me nervous, I'm afraid.

"You've traveled Middle Earth," Gandalf began.

"I have gone neither east nor south," I interrupted.

"You have traveled around middle earth. During those travels, you have encountered a number of dark creatures- therefore are good in a fight. You need not sleep. We can only imagine your experience, in both fighting and trekking through the wilds," Gandalf continued, "you would be a great help."

"I burn in sunlight, therefore I would only be able to travel by night. I require fresh flesh for sustenance, and should I go hungry I will lose my mind and attack the living. I am deeply affected by the ring- and its siren call. The wraiths incapacitated me greatly, if you recall, at the fjord, and I have no wish to experience that again," I argued back.

"The ring is a great burden, that must be brought into the depths of Mordor," I flinched as fire flashed across my vision, "none of us have experience in the darker parts of the world as you do," Gandalf replied.

"Also unlike the rest of you, I do not care about the fate of Middle Earth. It is Hell for me one way or another- that you should succeed or fail does not concern me," I growled.

"You do not care for the fate of Middle Earth! Should Sauron gain control he will destroy everywhere. There will be no more forests to shade you from the sun, nor uninhabited caves for you to hide him. When he would find you and enslave you- torture you for ages and ages," Strider interceded. I locked gazes with the man and snarled at him.

"Should such a fate occur I will burn myself before I am enslaved. Your middle earth can burn in the depths of hell for all I can or will care," I shot back.

"And thousands of people could live their lives in torment and pain because of you. Hundreds of people could be killed," Glorfindel muttered quietly. I glared at him.

"Fine!" I jumped out of my seat.

"If I am forced to go with your fellowship," I sneered at Elrond, "I will. However do not expect me to stay."

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_Gloussement, mère poule=_ Cluck, mother hen


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